


Meeting The Boyfriend

by GuardianRiel



Series: Growing Pains [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Father-Daughter Relationship, Gen, Just normal kids, M/gender neutral, NO ADULT CONTENT, No Phantom Thievery here though, Other, Shameless use of Persona 5's Ren Amamiya cuz I love him, and Amy is a sweet bean who deserves the best, teenage m/f
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2018-12-18
Packaged: 2019-09-22 11:17:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17058812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GuardianRiel/pseuds/GuardianRiel
Summary: Amarayllis brings her boyfriend over. He's attractive and kind and considerate.Azranahr hates him.





	Meeting The Boyfriend

**Author's Note:**

> Part of the Growing Pains series of modern AU one shots.  
> Sylveret is such a snark and I love them.

“Az, dearest, we have a dishwasher.”

Sylveret, coming up behind him and rubbing soothing circles on his upper back. He doesn’t have to look to know they’re up on their tip-toes so they don’t have to reach so high, an image he’d find cute if he wasn’t scrubbing a casserole dish so hard, he might wear out the enamel.

“I know.”

“Then why are you doing it by hand?” Sylv already knows, which is precisely why they don’t wait for him to answer the question before stepping beside him to kiss his cheek – he bends down to accommodate them while never breaking away from the task at hand – then turning to pick up their jacket from where it’s draped over a chair at the kitchen table.

“Just making sure.” He says tightly. _Because I’m keeping occupied._ Sylveret hears.

“Well, I’m heading to work. Give Amy a kiss from me when she gets home,” They say sweetly, and this time he does stop with his task, so he can turn and drop a kiss to the top of their head. “And do try not to frighten the poor boy too much.”

Right. _The boy._ The reason he’s keeping occupied, so he doesn’t break something out of stress. Amy was bringing her boyfriend over today.

“No promises.”

“Az…”

“I’m supposed to frighten him _a little.”_

“Az.”

“Just to make sure he-“

“ _Azranahr._ ”

“…I’ll try.”

“Good.” Sylveret kisses his cheek again, and he smiles at them with as much warmth as he can muster in his current state. “Text me later, tell me what he’s like.” They sling their coat over their arm while fishing their car keys out the pocket, “Have a good day dearest.”

“You too, Songbird.” He says, watching them leave. The moment he hears the door close behind them, he’s back to scrubbing the life out of the poor innocent casserole dish.

 

* * *

 

 

Ren Amamiya is a serious looking boy with dark fluffy hair and slate grey eyes. Azranahr supposes he’s tall for his age, not overly so, but still above average, with broad shoulders that promise at least a little more growth to come. If the name hadn’t been a dead giveaway, he would have guessed by the lad’s face that he might have been of Asian descent, but the voice he heard with Ren’s polite, albeit slightly intimidated, “Nice to meet you, Mister Noirtorel,” hinted nothing of the sort. Born and raised here then.

Despite his height, he had to look up to greet Az a fair way. _Good._ That’s one piece of leverage he had. Azranahr let out a “Hn,” that Amy glared at him for, so he offered his hand to the boy to shake. His palm wasn’t as sweaty as he had hoped. He definitely gripped too hard, but Ren didn’t protest, merely adjusted his glasses to disguise how he flexed his fingers after Azranahr let go.

_Take that._

He turns to the teapot he had filled early, grabbing his favourite mug, and one for Amy that was decorated with pretty pink unicorns that she hasn’t used for years and he had made sure was perfectly clean precisely for today.

“How do you like your tea, Ren?” he asks as he reaches for a third mug. _Test number one._

“Um.” He hesitates. Nervous, maybe? Good, he should be. “What kind is it?”

_Unexpected._

“Just standard black tea.” He answers, still facing away as he spoons a generous helping of sugar into Amy’s mug. He turns just enough to peek over at them, Amy has noticed his choice in mug for her and her face has gone beet red, a second later she hides against Ren’s shoulder.

He looks as though he’s about to put his arm around her. Wisely, he doesn’t.

“Just milk then, please.” He responds, polite, even smiling and looking nowhere near as frightened as he should.

_Dammit._

A third mug is added, and he’s halfway tempted to take his own with sugar for once just so that he doesn’t feel like the boy has similar tastes to himself. He made sure to pick another of Amy’s mug’s, this one with Disney Princess motifs. Maybe if Ren thinks all their mugs are disgustingly girly it will put him off.

Unfortunately for him, Ren simply thanks him, once again _politely_ and picks up both his and Amy’s mugs, passing hers to her, and glances at his mug. “I don’t know this one.” He says honestly to her, lifting his mug in a small gesture.

Amy, seemingly the only one embarrassed, looks to the mug too. “You haven’t seen Aladdin?” she asks, red face melting away, eyes huge with disbelief.

Ren shakes his head.

 _This is it._ Azranahr thinks to himself, stamping down the tiny flicker of glee, _she loves that movie. He’s blown it. Ha._

“Wanna watch it? It’s great!”

“Yeah, alright.”

_…Dammit._

Amy beams up at him, her face so bright and _happy_ and clearly infatuated with the boy. She takes his hand – Azranahr bites back a protest – and tugs him towards the living room. He moves to pick up his mug, no way is he leaving those two unattended. Never in a million years, no matter what they say about-

“Do you want to watch it with us, Mister Noirtorel?” Ren asks, he hadn’t even been looking at him before the question was out of his mouth, there’s no way he could have known what Azranahr was thinking.

Was he just that considerate?

Can’t be.

“Of course.” He answers, following behind the pair.

He settles into his chair, he had wanted to park himself in the middle of the sofa, but he knows Amy would tell Sylv about that, and the earful he would get in turn from them, so the chair it is. While Amy sets about finding the dvd, he fishes his phone out of his pocket and starts tapping away at the buttons.

Ren quietly sips his tea.

_He’s here. He’s lanky and his hair is a frizzy mess._

Amy swipes up the remote and sets the movie to play, plonking her tiny-self down next to Ren and making him jostle to one side for a moment. He plays it up like she had a bigger impact than she did, she laughs and shoves him, and for a second Azranahr hopes it’ll cause him to spill his tea on his crotch.

He doesn’t though, somehow, he keeps his mug balanced and places it down on the coaster in front of him before mussing Amy’s hair so it falls in her eyes. She blows it away and shuffles over to sit as close to him as she can, shoulders pressed together. And he thinks he sees her thread her fingers into his.

He did, because Ren lifts their joined hands just enough so they can rest innocently on his leg.

Where he can see them.

The boy _knows,_ and he’s making sure Azranahr doesn’t have cause for concern. He’s sure of it. That’s not how it’s supposed to work. Ren is supposed to try and make sneaky grabs at his daughter only to be discovered and ultimately thrown out.

He isn’t supposed to be _nice._

His phone chirps, and he lifts it to find a reply from Sylveret.

 **Songbird:** Oh the horror.

 **Songbird:** That’s grounds for running him out of town! How dare he darken your doorstep without perfect hair!

 **Songbird:** Lord forbid, I bet he’s wearing clashing colours too!

Amy is quietly singing along with Aladdin as he weaves his way through Aggribah, Azranahr knows all the words too, but he’s not willing to drop his “I am her stern father and you will be scared of me” act in front of Ren. The boy in question appears torn between watching the movie and chuckling at Amy.

He looks back to his phone again, a whole bunch of messages from Sylv had popped in in quick succession.

 **Songbird:** For real though, what’s he like?

 **Songbird:** Does he look like a troublemaker?

 **Songbird:** Is he older or younger than her?

 **Songbird:** …Is he cute?

 _He looks-_ He pauses to look up at Ren, still holding Amy’s hand while his free hand reaches for his tea. He tries to remove his bias for just a moment, just for accuracy. Ren’s hair might be messy and fluffy, but in that way that would be attractive if he were a teenager.

Which Amy _is._

His clothes aren’t flashy or expensive looking. Just a simple dark grey tee with a white button down left open on top with the sleeves rolled neatly up to his elbows. His glasses are somewhat large and rounded but in a way that suits his face, and his jeans aren’t pristine, but they aren’t frayed around the bottom either, and his shoes are clean and well looked after.

He’s an attractive lad, and polite, and clearly from the way he looks at Amy, very fond of her.

They’d be a cute couple if she wasn’t his daughter.

 **Songbird:** Az. Don’t leave me hanging. Tell me about the hellspawn that’s trying to steal the princess.

_He’s polite._

**Songbird:** How terrible.

_He likes tea the same way I do. He’s making sure I can always see where his hands are. He makes Amy smile._

No mater how many times she’s seen the movie, Amy always _howls_ with laughter at “Iiiitty bitty living space!” Ren, having never seen it, laughs along with her, though his own is much more subdued. Not shy or nervous by any means, just… Quiet.

 **Songbird:** He sounds nice.

_I hate him._

 

* * *

 

He has to leave them to make dinner, much to his chagrin. Sylveret will be home soon, so dinner has to take precedence. He’s tempted to just order something, but if he does that, then he isn’t showing how capable he is and how much _Amy depends on him_ and dammit he can’t take her away.

He doesn’t know if it’s just coincidence, or if Ren senses something, but he gently nudges Amy with his shoulder where she leaned against him, muttering just loud enough for him to hear. “How are you getting on with the History assignment?”

“Uuuugh. Don’t.”

“Amy, it’s due on Wednesday.” He says, “Need some help?”

He watches her stare up at him, eyes wide and incredulous, “You want to do _homework?”_ she asks, he nods, “ _Now?_ ” he nods again, “But Reeeeen.” She whines, “It’s so boooooring.”

“And it’s due on Wednesday.” He repeats, already reaching for his bag on the floor.

“I can’t believe I brought you to have dinner with my family and you brought homework, you nerd.”

“Only because I knew you wouldn’t have done it.”

Azranahr gets up and heads to the kitchen as Amy complains some more before heading up the stairs to her room to fetch her books. He pauses to listen, but there’s no sound of a second set of footsteps following her up the stairs, Ren remained on the sofa until Amy returned.

He’s a good influence too.

Azranahr _really_ hates him.

 

* * *

 

When Sylveret returns, dinner is almost ready, he just needs to mash the potatoes and serve it up. The musician enters their home with a flourish as always, sweeps into the kitchen and wraps their arms around Azranahr’s waist in a tight squeeze.

“Honey! I’m home!”

And he laughs, though he doesn’t manage to hide the strained note to it as well as he would have hoped. Not that he could hide anything from Sylveret.

“Soooooo?”

They don’t have to say more than that, he knows what they’re asking.

“In the living room.” He answers, and at Sylveret’s raised eyebrow, continues, “Doing homework.”

“….What.”

“Yeah.”

“Oh no. He’s a sadist.”

“Could you _not?_ ”

Sylveret twirls out of his arms, laughing in that carefree way they always do, “Well, I better go say hi. Shall I let then know dinner’s almost ready?”

“Please.”

And then they disappear from the kitchen, but he can hear them from here, Sylveret’s usual greeting of “Heeeey Princess!” and Amy’s peal of “Silveeeeeeer! Save me! He’s making me _study!”_

Sylveret’s laughter doesn’t quite drown out Ren’s quiet chuckle, and he can hear them exchanging quiet pleasantries. Sylv is definitely a lot more accommodating than he had been, telling him it was lovely to finally meet the boy Amy had talked so much about and- Wait. Amy had talked about him a lot?

She didn’t say much to _him_ about him.

Was he really that bad?

His stomach sinks.

“Well I hope you two are hungry,” he hears Sylveret telling the pair as they follow them through to the kitchen where Azranahr piles their plates with potatoes and carrots and a pork chop each, “Your dad made _loads.”_

“Like always.” Amy adds cheerfully, leading Ren over to the table. He sits opposite her though rather than next to her, and once again he wonders if he’s doing that on purpose.

Sylveret _definitely_ takes the seat next to Ren on purpose. Probably wise.

So he settles next to Amy, filling everyone’s glasses with water and doing his best not to cut his pork chop too vigorously. Sylveret makes small talk with the boy next to them, asking how his classes are going, how long he’s lived in the city. How long he and Amy have known each other.

His ears go a little red at that one. Azranahr does his best to appear uninterested – which earns him a kick in the shin from his partner under the table – and Sylveret, of course, presses on.

“Come on, you’ve only been dating a month! Tell me tell me!”

Amy’s face is tomato red again, and she takes a very real interest in her food.

“I uh… We’ve shared some classes since last year.” He begins, quiet, “And I always wanted to talk to her, but I couldn’t.” he coughs, adjusting his glasses, “Anne told me she was in the dance club at the start of this term, so I uh…” he pauses, he’d been looking down at his food most of the time, and he peeks up at Amy briefly for a moment before looking away again.

“So you went to watch the practice sessions?” Sylveret supplies.

_Of course, little perv._

“No. He joined.” Amy answers for them, looking somewhere between embarrassed and touched.

  _What?_

“I wanted to be able to talk about something she liked, so…” he leaves the rest of his sentence hanging, doesn’t really have to finish it.

Sylveret does what Sylveret always does at a story like that, they squeal, lean over and hug the boy, who looks sheepish and maybe a little uncomfortable. “Aaaaw! Isn’t that just the sweetest? You little charmer you!” they ruffle his already messy hair. “Right dear? Isn’t that lovely?” They ask, letting go of Ren to look at him pointedly.

He’s polite. He’s attractive. He’s considerate. He makes Amy happy. He takes an interest in the things she likes. He encourages her.

Azranahr hates him.

 

* * *

 

 

When it’s time for Ren to go home, Azranahr shakes his hand again, customarily to tightly.

“Thank you for having me, Mister Noirtorel.” He says, smiling despite that his hand must hurt at least a little.

“No problem.” It is a problem. A big one. Amy likes him. His sixteen-year-old daughter _really_ likes him, and he’s _nice_ and he _really likes her too._

It’s a _big problem._

“You come back anytime sweetheart, alright?” Sylveret tells him, reaching up and squishing his cheeks. He laughs awkwardly, but he doesn’t make any moves to stop them doing so.

“Thanks.” He says warmly. There’s a car waiting outside, Ren’s father, he thinks, and Amy follows him out to say goodbye, closing the door behind them.

“Don’t.” Sylveret warns.

“Sylv.”

“…Fine. Upstairs window then.”

As much as Sylveret protested him watching them, they’re right on his heels as he climbs the stairs. The window is still open a crack, and so long as they’re both quiet, they can both see and hear them quite clearly on the front step, the sun not quite low enough in the sky to obscure them.

“So, yeah, my family.” Amy was saying with an awkward laugh.

“They’re nice.” Ren responds, and he sounds sincere.

He can’t see Amy’s face, but he’s sure she just gave him a rather pointed look. “Really? Dad hasn’t scared you away?”

“Pff. If I was going to be scared away by anything, it would have been your singing.”

“Har dee har, Amamiya. Har dee har.” She answers, deadpan. Out of the corner of his eye, Sylveret looks proud.

“No, but really,” Ren continues, his hands moving to Amy’s hips, and Azranahr can feel Sylv’s hand on his arm.

_Don’t._

He doesn’t. Somehow.

“You told me what happened to your mom. What almost happened to you,” she told him that? She trusts him that much? “I’d be more worried if he wasn’t as protective as he is.”

And he’s also understanding. Goddamit he hates this kid.

“Thanks Ren.” She says, and she sounds so relieved his heart almost breaks. “I’ll see you in class on Monday?”

Ren nods, one of his hands going to her cheek. Is he going to kiss her? On _his_ doorstep? “Dance practice after. It’s Swing this week, isn’t it?”

She nods, rubbing her cheek against his palm.

“Okay.” He has to lean closer to the window to hear, his voice barely above a whisper now. “Goodnight Amy.” He says, leans in and-

_Don’t you dare._

-Kisses her forehead.

And then his eyes flick upwards and meet his for just a second, but it’s enough.

_He knew._

Sylveret looks proud.

“I’ll text you when I get home!” he calls after her as he walks backwards down the path to the car. He doesn’t look away from her until he’s buckled in and the car pulls out onto the road proper.

Sylveret nudges him, and they speed down the stairs before Amy can get back indoors and see what they were up to.

“So?” Amy asks, her eyes sparkling, “What do you think?”

Sylveret is quick to hug her, petting her hair in the way she likes and giving her a big ol’ smooch. “He’s lovely dear. Really, really nice. And charming. And cute to boot!” Sylv gives her an encouraging nudge.

“Daddy?” She looks up at him now, slipping back to calling him that as she always does when she’s either scared, upset, or seeking his approval. He knows which one this is.

Ren Amamiya is attractive, kind, encouraging, polite, considerate, and just as infatuated with his daughter as she is with him.

And he’s smart. Too smart. He knew he was being watched and didn’t slip up once.

Azranahr hated him.

“He’s okay.”


End file.
